


Runaways

by thebeastinsideusall



Series: Supernatural One-Shots, Imagines, Prompts, Headcannons [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alters, Another case, Bad things in the past, Bunker Life, Bunker gets full, Classic Cars, Dean around children, Dean gets all emotional, Death of many children, F/M, Hang on tight, Not nice story, Oc is a mother but not by choice, Previous rape, Running Away, Sacrifices, This story will not be okay, This will not be nice for awhile, Training Hunters, bad town, children are targeted, dark themes, witchy sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeastinsideusall/pseuds/thebeastinsideusall
Summary: Dean narrowly misses the nail tracks set in the road. He parks and gives a look to Sam. They know better then to intervene unless it's part of the case.Something stops him.Little boy. Can't be anymore then three or four. Screaming and wailing. Clawing at the police man holding him.The infuriated scream of his mother sounding above all the noise of sirens and talking.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Annnnnnnd here's another fic.

1

Flashing red and blue lights. The heavy scent of burnt rubber and high grade fuel. Half a dozen cruisers surrounding a classic Camaro banged all to hell and smoke coming from the hood. 

Is not what they expected to see when they came to this town for a case. Not four full grown men holding down someone against the trunk of the car. 

Not the leering disgruntled looks of the townsfolk on the streets staring, no glaring, at deans prized baby. 

They're dressed in suits already. Wanting to make a head start on this disappearance case. They think it's a djinn. 

Screaming and yelling. Huffs and growls and snarls coming from the men holding down the assailant. It looks like a high speed chase went down. 

Dean narrowly misses the nail tracks set in the road. He parks and gives a look to Sam. They know better then to intervene unless it's part of the case. 

Something stops him.

Little boy. Can't be anymore then three or four. Screaming and wailing. Clawing at the police man holding him. 

The infuriated scream of his mother sounding above all the noise of sirens and talking. 

That's who they're holding down. Dean can just make out a dark head of hair. She's pushed to the ground. Her arms handcuffed and she can't catch herself. Pavement and broken glass scratch her arm as she hits. 

Deans about to jump out of the car. Can't stand to see a woman treated that way. Hand on his arm stops him. Sam's shaking his head, whispering they'll look into it. Later.

Dean doesn't let up his glare. But puts the car into drive and moves to the police station instead. It's where they were going in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

2

The police station is abuzz with activity and it's hard for them to get an officer's attention. Outside there's a half dozen classic cars booted, in tow trucks or parked sideways in the spaces. Inside is crazy. Teens handcuffed to benches. Young adults yelling at officers. Crying young children in between. 

Dean meets Sam's eyes with a raised brow. Watching the chaos around them. It's not too out of the norm. But something doesn't feel right. The way it's kids in handcuffs. The nasty way the cops are acting to the little ones. It's off.

Sam nudges his arms, tilts his chin toward the doors where the woman from earlier is being dragged in kicking and screaming. Slamming her boots down on the linoleum floors as they push and pull her toward the holding cells in the back. 

"Fucking pigs!" She's swinging her weight down, kicking up and catches one in the thigh.

The teens and young adults started causing more racket. Voices raising. The hair on Dean's neck starts to raise as the cops pull out their guns. Not the batons. 

Shouts of rage. Three shots ring out. She stops her struggling as the bodies hit the ground where they stood. Dean and Sam are motionless for a few seconds until they take action. 

"Get your hands up! FBI!" Several officers drop ther weapons. Most don't. Instead training weapons on the hunter brothers and the smaller kids. 

His vision is red. Dean's not above killing people when kids are involved. 

It's nothing but a screaming blood filled fight after that.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Four handcuffed teens dead in total. Twelve police officers that had been shooting at the hunters now dead because they'd pointed guns and fired at kids.

Dean is standing there, hands and face spattered in blood as the remaining kids stand still. Apprehensive, scared. 

The woman, the one from the street. She's standing up slowly from her crouch, her hands still cuffed behind her. Dark eyes unblinkingly staring him down. 

"I don't know wether to thank you or kill you." Her voice is thick, venomous. A tall lanky teen comes up behind her and picks the locks on the cuffs, freeing her wrists. The metal rings thrown heavily to the ground.

"We just saved your asses. Maybe a thank you?" Dean's snarky. He doesn't know how to react. Things went down so quickly. They had no time to prepare and couldn't save the four lying dead before their time. One of them barely thirteen or fourteen.

"Why would I thank a cop? A pig?" The kids are helping each other out of the cuffs and gathering behind her. Slowly moving like a unit towards the other main door to the precinct. Older ones carrying younger.

"We're not cops." Sam tries, holding his hands up placating like. The group only look angrier. 

"Mind telling us what's going on?" Dean asks.

"Like you don't know."

"We really don't."

"Everybody in this town has gone nuts. Kids vanishing and no one bats an eye?" She stalks forward, a limp to her gate and her finger pointed at Dean. 

"Ten years and we're the only people under thirty. That seem strange to you?" Little feet are heard and it's like she's a demon. Moving faster than light and picking up the little boy who's crying and whimpering into her chest now. 

"Cops come to people's houses. Parents don't give a damn that their kids are taken and never come back." 

She holds him close. Slowly backing away as the other kids and teens shuffle to the doors. "We went to leave. Today. They ambushed us all. I don't know what they were gonna do, but it's doesn't change the fact were out of here." 

She points her fingers to the brothers. "I won't let another kid disappear on my watch. You stay away from us. Fucking stay away." With that she's gone. 

The sound of engines revved and the Parking lot emptied of what cars that could move and run. Packed down with nearly two dozen kids and teens. Leaving Dean and Sam speechless and confused


	4. Chapter 4

4

Dean and Sam couldn't explain it. Couldn't fathom the sight they found in the basement of the police station. 

Forty, fifty, Dean lost count. Bodies. Thrown into corners, piled on top of one another. A few small enough to be newborns. 

His stomach rolled. 

The townspeople, the older generations. They were sacrificing the youth to keep the town and surrounding farm lands prosperous. 

Sam retched, hands on his knees as every greasy burger from the last day was roiled and pushed from his stomach. The smell alone was horrid. But the sight...

Deans foot crunched on something plastic. A hot wheels car, spattered with dried brown blood. 

"Sam, we gotta find those kids.." His younger brother nodded. Face pale and still queasy at the basement around them. 

There were cages, chains... Blood spattered thickly over the alters. Children... Kids. Rotting bodies in tattered and new clothes alike. 

They ran up the steps. Into the Impala and screaming in their minds for Castiel to answer they're prayers. They needed to take out the town, but finding those near two dozen kids were top priority.


	5. Chapter 5

5

He found them. Castiel found them an hour away. The lot of them scarfing down tacos like they hadn't eaten properly in days, weeks maybe. The way some of them were skin and bones. 

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face as they watched them from the car. Sam's face grave, still trying to process what they'd seen in that basement. 

A town that size. Should have had hundreds of kids running around in all ages. Eighteen. There were only eighteen of them alive. Eighteen. Out of hundreds. 

Deans blood was boiling in his veins. Hands tight on the steering wheel as he watched the dark haired young woman holding the little boy. Feeding him little bites of food and constantly holding him close as if he'd be ripped out of her arms again. Her eyes on watch over all the others around her. 

"Dean.. What... What do we do here?" Sam looked to his older brother. A look of pure worry and confusion, fear of not knowing what to do. 

He didn't have an answer. Not really. He's never been great dealing with kids or teens. But... Dammit there's so many of them. Living in fear, some of them their entire lives as he sees the younger faces. A few barely five or six. 

He rubbed at his face again and took a long shuddering breath. They'd never survive if he and Sam set them up somewhere. Too many too young to get jobs and support the others. Most of them barely into their teens. Just a couple into their twenties maybe. Cps would find them, tear them apart. Foster homes and the system just as bad as the town they escaped from. 

"Goddammit..." He sighs again and ruffles his hair. "We tell them what's going on, offer.... Offer to take them to the bunker." 

"Dean.."

"What Sam? We have the room. You wanna send those kids out to get separated?"

"No..."

"Then that's what we're doing." Dean climbed out of the car, headed toward the outdoor tables where the kids were sitting.


	6. Chapter 6

6

The dark haired girl clutched onto the baby. Watching with angry eyes as Dean took a seat across from her. Sam standing behind Dean because there's no more chairs left. 

"I told you to stay away." She seethed, some of the younger kids gathering behind the older ones. 

"Look, we're not cops."

"You said you were fbi, what's the difference."

"We lied. It's part of our real jobs." Dean sighs and tries not to look so angry. "We uh, Jesus this never gets easier. We knew something was wrong with your town."

She just kept looking at him and Sam. Waiting. "We went in to help."

"Help? You're about ten years too late to be helping."

"Look we know that, and we're gonna end it. But first you, all of you, need a safe place away from there." Dean locks onto dark eyes. 

"We're out of there, we should be safe." Some of the older teens giving each other nervous frightened looks. 

"You're not, at least not yet. Honestly you weren't that hard to find. Bunch of kids? Few of you driving bet you don't have your license?" A few faces squished up in annoyance. 

"We'll be fine."

"Really? Got enough money to support everyone here? Food is one thing. But clothes? Necessities? Hotels and not to mention gas?" He saw her face falter. Knew they didn't have much money on them.

"Look I know you don't exactly trust us. But we have a safe place, no one will find you there." He holds out his hand to her. Makes sure he looks sincere.

"I'm Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam." 

She watched them both for long moments. Eyes glancing back to the many eyes behind her. The lives depending on her judgment. 

She turns back and unwraps a hand from the dark haired boy on her lap. Holds it out toward Dean's.

"Joan.."


	7. Chapter 7

7

Three cars follow behind the Impala. A dented and tattered 1976 Dodge Challenger that desperately needed a new exhaust and rust work. Painted, at one point, a baby blue but the paint was peeling and the original black was underneath. 

Behind the Challenger rode a 1964 Ford Mustang. It's drivers rear bumper was busted up slightly. Like it had been side swiped or rear ended. The paint was fading as well on this one. Mismatched tires underneath it with various wheel patterns. And a clunking under the hood that made Dean cringe. 

After the Mustang rode a 1969 Chevy Nova. It was the least busted up of the cars. The silver paint still gleamed though it was hiding under dust and grit from the road. A few dents here and there. One deep gauge where it looks like a bat was hit on the drivers door. And a busted front headlight.

They followed the Impala closely. Sam was uncomfortable letting children, teens really, drive without permits or licenses. But there was no way to haul all of them back to the bunker without a couple of vans.

So they follow the sleek black car with the Winchesters four hours on the highways and interstates. And just when the Mustang and Challenger start to overheat, the Impala pulls off the highway and toward an unlabeled road covered in old gravel and dirt. 

It's like they drive for miles on that dirt and gravel road. Dust spilling from behind them as tires roll over dry road. And then it's finally stops, the Impala slowing to what looks like a door sunken into the ground. Steps going down into it. And a large garage door looking like its sprouting from the hillside. 

Joan looks at the doors with confusion, until the garage door opens and the Impala gently moves inside. She takes a second to realize what she's doing. Then hits the gas softly and follows the Winchesters into the hidden garage. Waving out the window for the others to follow. 

The Impala is parked and the others follow suit. The large heavy door coming down and locking with a finality as the passengers of kids climb out of the cars. Joan heading them off toward Dean and Sam as they stand by a heavy iron door leading somewhere.

"Welcome to the Bunker, ladies and tiny gents."


	8. Chapter 8

8

Dean and Sam showed the group the library and war room, kitchen and then down the massive halls towards the bedrooms. Dean led the kids toward the west wing. His and Sam's bedrooms are in the south wing, closest to the main doors. 

"Joan?" Sam asks softly and the young woman shakes herself from staring at the walls and ceilings back to the brothers before her. 

Sam points to the rows of closed doors. "This wing should have enough room for everyone to have their own room, unless any of you want to bunk up. Whatever you'd like."

Sam and Dean watched as the young woman locked eyes with the two oldest looking boys. Her own showing far too much wisdom and hurt and fear then they'd seen in all their years of hunting. 

"Go on now, it's okay." Like they were scared, the rest of the kids started to go to either rooms for themselves or a few to one room. Close knit groups easy to tell as they gathered together and explored. 

The two teen boys stayed behind Joan, arms crossed behind her shorter form as she held the babbling baby on her hip. 

"Can we talk?" She asked and Dean nodded, leading them back toward the war room and offered her a chair at the map table. 

Joan situated the dark haired baby onto her lap and scrubs one hand over her face. The boys sit on either side of her with the Winchesters across the wide table. 

"They've been through a lot." She starts, focusing on the giggling baby instead of the men across from her. 

"And you took them all in? I mean.. That's a lot of responsibility for one person, let alone a kid." Dean spoke up. He looked at the young faces, too young for the choices they've had to make and the lives they've led so far. 

"How? I mean you're just kid yourself." Sam started, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. 

"Stealing, farming what we could. Most of us living in an abandoned farmhouse for a the last few years."

"Jesus kid." Dean scrubs a hand over his face. 

"I'm nineteen, I think." She chuckles darkly and shakes her head. "We haven't celebrated a birthday in a long time."

"This is George, and Matthew." She points to her left to the tall lanky boy with brown hair in his eyes. And to the right to another tall boy with jet black hat and brown eyes. "George is about my age and Matthew is 15."

"How olds this little guy?" Dean reaches over gently, the baby taking his finger in his small hand. 

"He's about three." Dean startles and looks at her. 

"Is he yours?" 

"Yes..." Dean closes his eyes and breaths slowly, that means she had to have been at the least fifteen or sixteen when she got pregnant. 

"You're all safe here." Sam says because he can see the rage boiling under Dean's gaze. 

"I... Thank you." She reaches over and clasps Sam's outstretched hand and squeezes. 

Sam tells Dean to go on a run and get pizza, enough for all the kids for tonight and they'd go for a supply run tomorrow to stock up the kitchen. Dean just simply leaves, too many things in his head from Joan's soft admission. 

The flutter of wings startles Sam as he looks up from his laptop. Castiel stands there looking horribly angry. "They warded the entire town from angel view and prayers. We could not help them because we didn't know." 

He looks so lost and hurt, angry he couldn't have saved the many innocent lives lost. "Cas, it wasn't.."

"Yes, it was." And he's gone with a flutter of wings and a rustling of papers.


	9. Chapter 9

9

It's strange. Having the bunker no longer filled with silence. It's been two days and things have settled down. Dean's still trying to process the horrors he found in the basement. He spent forty years in hell and he never saw the things he did in that police station. 

Joan was a soft spoken young woman with a fiery temper. But she cared for each and everyone of those little kids. Not a single one getting left out. Matthew and George were always with the younger ones as well. Acting as guardians so no fights or screaming matches happened. 

And honestly, Dean's surprised because these kids are so withdrawn they hardly talk except when it's meal time. They're all so well behaved and he thinks it has to do with their early years already ruined to act like adults instead of the kids they were. 

Sometimes it hurts, seeing all those kids of different ages. The ones that sit quietly and color or watch tv without a word for hours, yet cling to Joan or the older boys for fear of being left alone. He wishes he could have saved the others, saved these ones from their lives already ripped apart. 

He needs a bit to calm his angered mind and aching chest. Decides to do an engine check on Baby and heads to the garage for solace. 

After awhile he's elbow deep in grease and hears little feet slowly making their way onto the cement floor. Frayed and worn pink shoes appear beside the car and Dean rolls himself out to find a little girl. 

She's got long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and her arms are wrapped around a ragged looking unicorn stuffed animal. Dean raises an eyebrow and looks back to the door, none of the other kids followed her. 

Dean puts his hands on his knees and stoops to her level. A smile on his face as he locks his eyes with pretty blues ones. 

"Hey sweetheart, whatcha doing?" She only sways from side to side for a second before looking at the Impala and pointing toward it. 

"That's a car sweetheart." He smiles and watches as she climbs onto the work stool to get a better look into the engine bay. 

She points inside again and he raises a brow. "That's the engine block." She points to something else. "That's a radiator." Again and again she points and Dean calmly and simply explains what the parts are. 

"I'm Abigail." She says in a whisper like voice and Dean leans back down, offers his hand to her already greasy one. 

"Hi Abigail, I'm Dean." She shakes his hand and smiles. 

For the next two hours Abigail would hardly speak, but when she did she would ask about the car parts or what Dean was doing. What was surprising was that she retained the information and would ask further questions. She couldn't be more than six or seven.

Dean watched her put her unicorn down and crawl up under the car with him as he changed the oil. Her little face smudged with dirt and grime and she looked so absolutely adorable. 

"Abby?! Abby are you in here honey?" It was Joan's voice, panicked and almost shrill from the doorway to the bunker. 

"She's here with me." Dean called from the car, pulling himself from under it and helping Abigail up as well. He chuckled at her picking up her unicorn, the white fabric quickly greasy. 

"Dean I am so sorry! She didn't bother you did she?" Joan is toting around Chase, her son, and the little boy giggles at the older child's dirty face. 

"Nah, we're buddies. Right sweetheart?" He holds his hand out for a high five and Abigail quickly slaps her smaller hand to Dean's with a smile. 

Yeah, maybe it wasn't so bad. Having these kids around.


	10. Chapter 10

10

The brothers haven't stayed at the bunker more then a week at the most since finding it several years ago. It was weird staying inside and not driving through the country trying to save the world, again. 

It was making Dean itchy to get outside. But he refrained from a drive for now. Too many to keep track and get to know yet before he left Sam alone with this brood of kids and teens. 

He and Sam were pouring over books in the library. Laptops running and notes scattered about as they tried to figure out how the entire town kept itself warded from Angels. Was it even possible??

"Cas said it was, but he didn't say how." Sam answered Dean, yet again. They'd been at it since dawn and still no headway, at all. 

"Doesn't make sense! How the fuck did a single town just suddenly go off the angel prayer map and none of them realize or bat an eye?" Dean growled and took a long sip of his now lukewarm beer. 

"Because we had more pressing matters, the apocalypse was upon us at the time." Castiel's sudden appearance just made Dean look over his shoulder at the haggard looking angel. 

"Jesus Castiel, what happened to you?" Sam stood and went to the Angel. He was healing quickly but it looked as if he'd been through quite the fight. 

"The town is decimated. I will not have them steal and kill another innocent." Castiel said slow and sure in the scratchy baritone voice he had. 

"You, you what?" Dean stood slowly, eyes wide and questioning. That town held over a thousand people. Castiel... Killed them all?

"They were all guilty. I served justice where it had been absent for a decade." Castiel said and looked from Dean to Sam. 

"Well... I guess we don't need to go back anymore..." Sam says and runs a hand through his hair. 

"Do we tell them?" Dean asks both Sam and Castiel.


	11. Chapter 11

11

"Dean?" Joan's knocking gently on the doorway into the war room. Worry etched over her face as Dean looks up. Causing Dean to furrow his brow. 

Most of the kids are in the tv room, watching cartoons or in their rooms. Joan's usually with them. Taking the reading glasses from his eyes he sets them down on the books in front of him. 

"What's up sweetheart?" She comes and sits beside him, holding Chase a bit tighter than usual. He can see how the usually boisterous three year old is quiet and extremely clingy.

"Chase is having problems breathing at night and when he plays he's wheezing a lot, I'm worried he's got asthma?" Dean can hear the fear in her voice and he reacts, reaching out for the little boy and moving him into his lap. 

"That right little dude? Having trouble breathing?" Chase just settled against Deans chest and sighed, closing his eyes like he was tired. 

Dean listened intently for a moment and sure enough. There was a tiny wheeze to the boys breathing. It worried Dean, to the point of fear almost. They could get away with a couple fake id's and insurance here and there. But he and Sam had 18 new people to take care of. 

"Think we should take him to a doctor." Joan nodded and took Chase back, the little boy wheezing louder and reaching for Dean. "Alright alright, I got cha." Chase had taken such a liking to Dean lately, not even Sam could get the baby to smile like Dean could. 

He stood, moving the boy into his arms and leading Joan to the library where Sam was most likely hiding from the kids for a few minutes. "Sammy, can you get ahold of Charlie?"

"Um I think so, why?" Sam looked up from his laptop, brow furrowed at Dean's tight grip on chase. 

"He's needs to see a doctor, ain't breathin right. None of em have records anymore and they'll need insurance." Sam nods and scrubs a hand over his face.

"That's gonna take some time, to find her, get her here and then make them all." Sam starts typing away on the laptop.

"Do the best you can for now. Gonna go ahead and take him in." Sam nods as Dean places a hand on Joan's lower back and leads her towards the south wing. 

For now Dean can mock up a fake birth certificate and social security card, it won't be much but it'll work for now. At least until Charlie can make legit ones for everyone. 

"You've been doing this a while haven't you?" She asks softly as Dean works on the well lit table, peering over the reading glasses back on his nose as he makes a birth certificate for chase. 

"Yeah, you could say that." He gives a sad smile toward her, flickering his gaze to Chase who is quietly watching him as well. 

"Dean?"

"Yeah sweetheart."

"Teach me to be a hunter."


	12. Chapter 12

12

"Joan.. I'm not teaching you how to get yourself killed." Deans voice turned harder, he didn't look back up as he finished writing a doctors name on the certificate. 

"But Dean.. You saved us... And countless others by what Sam says." 

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and and almost growls. He's not having this conversation. He's not doing it. Refuses to teach someone this life only to get themselves killed. He won't do it. He won't see another kid, another woman, die because of this life. 

"No Joan." And his eyes land on her dark ones and she sighs and nods. Doesn't bring it up again as they head to the garage. Or at the emergency clinic. 

She does give him a look as he gives his last name for Chase. And when Dean says he's the father and the doctor gives him a look as well noticing how young Joan is. He doesn't even make a comment at the nurses flirting questions either.

Doctor says Chase does in fact have minor asthma and makes sure Joan and Dean both know how to use the children's inhaler if they see him wheezing again. Make sure he doesn't get too excited and watch him when he plays outside when it's raining or wet. 

It's on the ride back to the bunker that she asks again. The steady rumble of the Impala beneath them, Chase in the backseat in his car seat dozing in the sunshine coming through the cracked windows. Little hot wheels cat in his hands.

"Please Dean."

"No."

"Dammit just teach me Dean. I'm so tired of being weak." She leans forward and to the side, facing out the windshield and hiding behind her hair. But her voice cracks in the end. "I'm so fucking tired of being worthless."

Dean sighs and knocks his head back on the seat, keeping an eye on the road as he reaches over and takes her hand in his own rough one. 

"Just some lore lessens for now."


	13. Chapter 13

13

Dean and Sam sat at the table in the library, a half bottle of Jack being split between them. Late at night and all the kids and teens are fast asleep. Dishes sat needing cleaned in the sinks and there are coloring pages scattered over the floor around them. 

"Dean... That's... I don't think it's such a good idea..." Sam stroked a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. 

Dean had agreed to teach Joan some lore, just some lore, for now. And Sam had made the mistake of asking if Dean was going to teach the other older kids as well. It had brought up Dean short and caused him to spill out a ridiculous idea. 

"Sam, we're gonna have to." Dean sips at the glass in his hands, realizing it's hitting him more than it used to. He's been sober for a long while now. 

"I just... Do we have to?"

"Sammy come on, they don't have a future." Sam goes to disagree. "Joan and the older ones? They don't have any education outside of maybe grade school. The younger ones are going to take after them and you know it."

"But make them hunters?" Sam stared at his older brother, saw the conviction and guilt at what Dean wanted to do. "Can we really subject them to that?"

"Sam... I don't see any other options. Do you?" Dean gulped the last of his glass and poured another. 

They were a dying breed. The past decade hunters killed too easily. Most were dead, others left the life and died for it. And the only ones really left were the Winchesters, Charlie and Jody. Well and Garth.

These kids, these teens and young adults. They wanted to learn, to do something and help others. Because no one had helped them until it was too late, almost. Joan was at the head, asking to be taught to kill. To learn a life that would eventually kill her and the kids around her. If not now, then later in life. 

All Dean knew for sure was that this life killed you. Sooner or later.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are Love
> 
>  
> 
> Comments are Life


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